If I Die Young
by rachvic
Summary: Jean had nearly forgotten the promise he had made to Marco back on that day, what Marco had asked of him, however it soon reared its sorrowful head once again... - A one-shot about Jean's thoughts when he found the body of his best friend. Rated T due to character death.


_**Author's Note:**_This was an extremely quick one-shot I made after thinking about Marco and Jean... Those precious babies pulled my heart out... It was inspired by the song _'If I Die Young'_ by _'The Band Perry'_, since I always think of Marco whenever I hear that song... ;v;

**_Disclaimer:_**I don't own Attack On Titan, Attack On Titan belongs to Hajime Isayama.

* * *

_'Jean... Will you promise me something?...'_

At the time, the words were just that - mere words. Jean never really thought about the fact that perhaps, what the dark-haired boy was about to ask of him, what the freckled young man wanted him to promise to him, this new sacred bond between the pair of them would eventually come back to him...

And yet...

Here he stood.

Here he remained, fists balled up against his thighs as he tried to understand the situation, as he tried to realise the fact that this _was _happening, and that he _was _having to remember each syllable that had left the boys lips.

_'...Jean... If... If I... If I end up... Getting caught by one of those things...'_

His caramel eyes dared not to leave the morbid sight before him, his heart shattering into tiny pieces that he knew he would never be able to fully gather back together in order to repair what had been broken - he would always see the cracks, and they would never truly disappear, and that this memory, it would never leave him, no matter how much he would try to erase it from his mind, it would remain burnt into his brain, the scar never leaving...

He knew that, in the end, he would never truly believe what his eyes were sending to his brain, these images being presented to him... This had to be a dream, a twisted nightmare, all of his fears and his consistent anxiety had taken on a form of their own. This _could not _be reality, this _was not _reality, he simply refused to believe so.

There before him... Lay the very person he had vowed he would never allow this to happen to, the one person he had promised he would protect with his own life, and give up his own before he allowed the gentle young man's to be taken, that he would be the one to give up everything he had, to leave the mortal, physical world, in order to allow the other to live. Yet, it appeared the tables had turned completely, that he had already broken a promise he had vowed to keep for as long as he lived...

It was _his_ fault, not Marco's. He could have prevented this, if he had simply stayed by his side, if he had been a true friend, if he had valued where his heart and soul lay, rather than where his work lay. If he had only been there for him, as he should have been, as he should always have been. He had vowed to the boy

_'...That, you won't cry for me... Save your tears for a more important time, when you truly need them...'_

How could he even say that? How could he possibly say that he was not important? How could he even come to the conclusion that he meant so little to Jean in the long run? He was his _everything... _And therefore, he was _important, _perhaps the most important thing he had ever encountered in his short life so far, and would ever encounter.

_'...This was the path I decided to take, and I knew this risk when I came here with you...'_

Of course he knew the risk, everyone knew the risk of this, however what else were they supposed to do?

He had originally planned for the pair of them to be able to live comfortably within the inner most walls of the gargantuan, structured society that humanity had eventually come to build over time... And yet now... Now... Now he believed he knew what that suicidal maniac had meant, where he gained his passion from...

They simply could not merely allow themselves to be trapped like livestock, forced to live of a life of imprisonment within a cobblestone cage built by humanity themselves? Humanity had allowed itself to become dependent on the gargantuan walls that towered over them, had worshipped them, had completely forgotten that they were the ones who had originally built them. That in itself should have been enough to prove to humanity that they were strong, and that they could be stronger, and due to this, they would be able to fight back, to protect what they had worked so hard to create, to keep on going, to keep on fighting, to keep the battle raging on until none stood left for their fate.

Courage however, had become a factor that not a single living soul possessed any more, it simply was not a word in anyone's vocabulary. It was extremely _dangerous _to be brave in any sense, and so they simply gave up, allowing the Titans to ultimately win due to the this, as nobody possessed the resolve to fight, the guts to stand up and admit that this was no way to live, that they could do something...

He himself did not possess courage, he never had, however he was beginning to understand... To understand the emerald-eyed boy's determination - he fought to protect what he loved, not only this, but what everyone loved, and the future itself... He simply would not allow another to die, not in vain...

_'...In the end, it would be my fault if anything were to happen to me...'_

No.

It wasn't _your _fault, it was _his. _It was never _your _fault, for _you _never had anything to be at fault for, and still would not. _You _were perhaps the most gentle creature that had been given the cruel fate of being born into this wretched, twisted reality that you had been forced to live in. It was never _your _fault, and it would never be _your _fault.

_'...And I can accept that fact...'_

Although Marco may have been able to accept this fact, Jean simply could not, and would not. He allowed him to die, if he had been the hero he promised to be, if he had been the one to save the gentle soul from a brutal fate worse than death itself... Then none of this would never have happened, and he would have been able to discuss the day's events with the young man once they were able to leave and rest for the evening. However, this was not the case, and would never be the case again.

Things were different now.

_'...Promise me, that you'll carry on, carry on for both of us...'_

There was nothing left to carry on for, no goal left for Jean, no light at the end of a pitch black tunnel. There simply emptiness now, a spacious void that had once carried the wonders and riches of friendship itself, of a partnership that should have stood the test of time and lasted for a much longer period. However, the thick ropes that bound the pair together, that would never allow them to truly be separated, had been viciously torn apart, ripped until only tatters remained, until there was nothing but strands left, those strands being the memories left... Memories only brought with them a new pain, a much sharper, more painful infliction upon Jean's form. Memories only reminded him of what he had lost, of what would never be regained.

_'...You're stronger than I'll ever be - you can __**keep on fighting**__...'_

How could he keep fighting? How could he possibly keep this up, when he had no reason to fight any longer, when he had already failed his overall mission, when he had already broken so many promises that he had vowed to protect with his heart, soul and body.

Marco was a soul that was too gentle for this world, a soul that did not belong in world as vicious, as wrong as this. He was far too soft, too gentle for a world such as this, a world that would never be kind enough as to grant him a single wish, to give him the privilege of getting the rewards he deserved for his kind nature.

Marco had been a warm light that illuminated the jet black that was his life, and that warm light could have led him to a bright future, a future that was more pleasant, far more joyful than the cards he had been dealt... And yet... Now... That light, that single light, had been completely snuffed out, never again to be rekindled...

_'...And in everything you do, every step you take after that day, I will be right there with you...'_

He wanted more than that... He wanted him to physically be beside him, for the pair of them to share more time together, to create more memories...

_'...I will __**always **__ be there to pick you up when you fall, even if you cannot see me...'_

...He wanted to be able to see him again, to be able to get a glimpse of those chocolate brown eyes that held nothing but warmth, to see those rosy cheeks that had light freckles scattered about them, to get one last look at that soft smile that held within it hope itself...

_'...I will__** always**__ be there to cheer you on, even if you cannot hear me...'_

...He wanted to hear that soothing, delicate voice again, he wanted it to be able to grace his ears once again...

_'...I will __**always **__be there to comfort you, even if you cannot feel my touch...'_

...He wanted to feel his gentle touch upon his pale skin, once again, to feel the cosy warmth that radiated from said touch...

_'...Jean... I will __**always**__ be there for you...'_

...And what he wanted most of all, was Marco himself, to know that he was completely fine and that this was just a lucid yet corrupted dream that had darkened only due to the fears he had been harbouring all this time, to awaken at any given moment...

_'...So Jean. Promise me. You won't cry for me, if I die... Because in the end, I'll __**always**__ be there for you, and the memories will __**always**__ remain of the times we shared - so as long as you keep those memories alive, I will never truly leave you... Do you promise me that?...'_

Jean had already broken far too many promises on that day, so why would it hurt him, why would it concern him if he broke another? Why would it cause his heart to sink, for his breathing to grow snappier and more choppy?...

He decided to follow this through, casting aside Marco's previous words, allowing the bitter tears to begin to overflow, for his caramel eyes to widen as he took in the pasty white, lifeless, disfigured corpse of what once had been his friend...

No...

_**What was still his friend, and would always be his friend...** _


End file.
